Unavailable
by xXKanpekiXx
Summary: Wendy finds that, for the first time, Stan is unavailable. Oneshot. Style!


Well, here it is. My first South Park fanfiction and, of course, it's **STYLE**! Pretty much the cutest pairing ever. I don't see the point in putting a summary here.

I don't have much to say. I wrote this in lang/math class. Hey, it was better than paying attention. And, I planned on writing a new fanfiction. I want it to be posted soon. That is, if you enjoy my writing enough to want an encore.

Without further ado, here is "Unavailable."

* * *

Wendy toyed absent mindedly with her phone, flipping it open and closed with her bottom lip.

It was a Friday night, she was alone, and she was unhappy. In fact, this plane of loneliness had started when she broke it off with Tolken earlier in the week and it had no end in sight.

That is, it didn't until Wendy's wonton bottom lip hit the green call button. She didn't notice at first, too absorbed in her mental reproduction of the recent trip to Splitsville to hear the ringing.

It wasn't until Stanley Marsh's confused greeting sounded from the speaker that Wendy snapped to attention.

"S-Stan?" she squeaked, absolutely baffled over why her on-again-off-again (but to his displeasure, mostly off) boyfriend was talking to her.

"Yeah, Wendy?" Stan droned, already past confusion and onto boredom.

They hadn't spoken more than a grand total of 10 words in the last three months since Wendy had once again dumped him for being "distracted."

Stan, unaware of Wendy's latest and greatest failure in the relationship department, figured she was calling to do one of two things:

(A) Harass him, flaunting her undiluted pleasure in dating another man.

(B) Ask him to return something of hers that she'd left at his house back when they were still together.

Seeing as he'd already delivered the last of the Rainbow Hearts teddy bear series, he was sure that option A was her only remaining course of action. He began formulating an excuse to evacuate the conversation when she started.

But Wendy, that trick little bitch, after figuring out what she'd done, decided that it was fate and she settled on option C. Ask Stan out.

"Hey, Stan, are you…are you free tonight? I'm kind of bored and I thought maybe we could hit a movie. I heard that Paranormal Activity is good. It's showing around 9."

"Oh, uh, sorry, Wendy. I have plans tonight. Maybe some other time." He said it with a kind of final tone, something that went completely overlooked by Wendy as she took the crimp in her Friday night plans. Wendy was disappointed, but she took her loss well.

They bid each other good night and Stan placed his phone back on the table. He assumed that, as was normal, Wendy would hang up.

She didn't.

She heard a muffled voice, one that wasn't Stan's. It had a teasing tone, an element of ridicule.

"So…what did Wendy want?"

"Nothing. She just wanted to see a movie."

"Oh, but you wouldn't go because your _dream girl _is coming over, right?"

There was a quick pause in which Wendy could hear something being dropped. She could almost picture Stan's incredulous face, mouth opened in shock, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Dude, shut up!"

They scuffled for a few moments, their struggle made evident by a few choice swears, slapping sounds, and ruffling. They paused as that muffled voice, most likely belonging to Kenny, sounded again.

"Oh! Hey! Your dream girl's here. I should leave. Don't want to be a third wheel."

"KENNY!"

After scattered movements, casual goodbyes, and a door closing shut, Wendy was glued to her phone, waiting to hear the dream girl's voice. She was eager to hear this siren's screech, this prostitute's philandering.

Unfortunately for Wendy and her snooping, Bebe came strolling in the door and she was compelled to abort the eavesdropping.

It was a shock.

Stan had always been Wendy's platonic booty call. He'd always been willing to push friends and personal appointments aside to make room for her and she'd always counted on that.

But what if Stand had really found someone new?

What if some blonde-hair bimbo was offering herself to Stan right now?

What if some red haired vixen was playing with his hair, making his heart sing?

No more midnight phone calls when one of her boyfriends went down the shithole.

No more last minute movie dates.

No more quiet, reassuring kisses.

No more pressure-less shoulders to cry on.

No more eager ear.

No more Stan.

The boy who she'd grown to see as permanently free was now for the first time unavailable.

Well, she was going to see it that this was only temporary.

She ushered Bebe out rather rudely, making a mental note to bring chocolates as an apology on Monday. Tossing on her best black skirt and nicest purple blouse, Wendy spared just enough time to get ready before bolting out of the house, tray of cookies pilfered from the kitchen in hand. She would explain to her mother later how those baked goods would were used for love.

She caught a bus heading in Stan's direction and power walked the last two blocks to his house. It was sorted and tactless, she knew, but losing her rock was not an option. Wendy knocked on the polished wooden door, then taking a step back to fix her bangs. Stan opened the door, confusion multiplying when the lights from inside dimly illuminated Wendy's face.

"Hi, Stan. My mom…uh made a batch of cookies and she wanted me to give you some since she…err…made too many."

A small ray of enlightenment seeped across Stan's features, reaching down to his salivating mouth, already awaiting the fruits of Wendy's mother's baking. He hungrily accepted the cookies, wheeling around to flaunt the goods to his guest.

Wendy took this opportunity in full to snoop around Stan's broad shoulders to peer in at the thing plaguing Stan's house.

There was no blonde-haired tramp sprawled, legs open on the couch.

There was no brunette vixen with an overflowing chest and a thin waistline.

There wasn't even a raven haired prude, crossing her legs and sitting straight against her chair.

There was Kyle, red curls spiraling into his emerald eyes, transfixed on a page of unfriendly calculus. He sat up, hearing Stan's delighted cookie squeals, and smiled gently at Wendy, saying hello.

She waved, holding her other hand tightly against her thigh, feeling stupid and awkward stranded on the threshold. Kyle invited her inside, chastising Stan for being blinded by the sweets.

"Chocolate chip, Kyle. Chocolate chip."

Wendy easer her way into the house, becoming more assured with each step.

'_Kenny was probably messing with Stan. Making those gay jokes men seemed to be so fond of, calling Kyle Stan's dream girl to poke fun at him. Playfully threaten his sexuality.' _

Wendy's spirit lifted, elation tickling her stomach as she finalized her plan of action.

She suggested the addition of milk to the cookie party and followed an eager Stan into the kitchen. Before he could open the fridge, however, Wendy had seized his hand.

"Stan, I really need to talk to you." She could see comprehension looming on his face, an indistinguishable expression clouded by his strands of long black hair as he bowed his head.

"Stan, I really made a mistake, letting you go. I've taken you for granted so many times and that was so unbelievably wrong of me."

"Wendy, I…"

"Please, Stan, I love you."

Instead of a reciprocated loving gaze, Wendy watched as Stan's eyes turned quickly to the doorway.

A very red Kyle was gripping at the white wash panels and he had the look of a very young boy caught peeping at his brother's naught magazines.

"I'm SO sorry! I came in to see if I could help with the milk. I-I'll go back now."

And as Wendy's gaze shifted back to Stan, she saw it.

She saw the horrified terror crossing his face, she saw his hands shrivel into fists, and she saw the way his eyes seemed to melt when they looked in Kyle's direction.

She saw the dream girl.

She saw defeat.

And for the first time in her life, she saw Stan was permanently unavailable.

* * *

Well, that was it. I hope you enjoyed it. I pushed homework aside for this. And studying. Shoot. XD Review to cheer me up!


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